March 5, 2014
PUBLISHER’S CORNER
By David W. Deuth, CFSP
President, Weerts Funeral Home
As this edition of 50+ Lifestyles is being produced, we are still in the stronghold grips of a pretty memorable winter. Growing up in my homeland of Minnesota, I’m certainly no stranger to cold and snow. That doesn’t mean that I like it, necessarily – just that I’m more or less used to it.
I vividly remember delivering newspapers on my paper route in some awfully cold weather as a kid. I remember some extremely cold committal services there at the cemeteries as a funeral director. And, I remember some colossal snowstorms. Having lived there more than 30 years before “heading south” to the QCA, I like to think that I’m pretty hardy when it comes to the cold months around here.
But honestly. Enough is enough already.
I’ve watched with good humor, year after year, the trappings of Groundhog Day. Some guy wearing spectacles, a top coat and a top hat wrestles some groggy groundhog from his long winter’s nap, hoists him upward toward the sky and, along with gaggles of curious onlookers, declares whether or not the rodent might actually be able to see his own shadow. Folklore, as we are all too familiar, supports the notion that the affirmative is near to scientific proof that there will be another six weeks of winter.
Winter’s relentless pursuit of the Midwest – before and since Groundhog Day – has caused me to do some reflecting on the subject. I decided that I have nothing against groundhogs, really; they’re kind of cute, I suppose. Surely, they have some ecological purpose. And I don’t think I’ve ever had one burrowing around in my yard.
No one enjoys being awakened from a nap, I’ll grant you that. But clearly, someone needs to have a talk with this Puxatawny Phil. I submit there are at least three things he could do to make sure he cannot see his own shadow on Groundhog Day:
First, (and this is far too obvious), he could simply come out when the sun is not shining. No extra cost, no extra
planning. Just come out before the sun comes up.
If we found him to be uncooperative on that idea, perhaps we could get Mr. Phil a nice little tent. He could poke his nose out while still under the tent and take a look around on February 2nd. It wouldn’t matter if it was sunny or cloudy – as long as he stayed under the tent, there would be no shadow to worry about.
Or third (my personal favorite): he could simply just keep sleeping until spring like the rest of ‘em.
What’s so hard about that?
Enough with winter already – I say let the groundhog sleep. And let’s bring on spring!
